


Kafeh

by Pangaea



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, No Reform Vulcan AU, Non Consensual, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Star Trek: TOS, slave AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangaea/pseuds/Pangaea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written back in 2010 . . . I'm sorry, but Kirk/Sarek makes me squee with lust, and others feels. . . this story takes place in a No-Reform Vulcan AU where Sarek has recently acquired a new human slave for his son. . . but of course, Sarek claims the right to try him out the first night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> ALL of my TOS Trek art can be found at http://princessofswordsart.tumblr.com/
> 
> Illustration for this chapter can be found here--> http://princessofswordsart.tumblr.com/post/53393696756/man-were-really-getting-into-my-top-favorite

Sated from his evening meal, Sarek entered his private chambers. He was pleased to find that his orders had been followed. At the foot of his immense bed there was a small couch; curled upon it was the new human slave he had acquired at the markets this morning.

It was difficult to believe that this was the same being that his men had dragged onto his estate. The human had fought like a wild animal, shouting in his blunt language and lashing out with his fists and feet and teeth. He had been bathed, perfumed and dressed. The pale, melon green tunic was a lovely contrast to the rose-gold tone of his skin. A very long, golden chain at his neck shackled him to a post of Sarek’s bed.

The slave glared warily at Sarek with warning, Don’t come near me. From his actions this morning it was obvious to anybody that this human was new to a bound life. Sarek had bought the human with the intention of gifting him to his own son, who he knew would be home in less than a week. It was precisely the reason Sarek had had the slave prepared to spend the evening with him. He intended to show this slave the proper conduct of his new station. The human could be dangerous in his anxious state, and Sarek would not risk his only son being harmed. Also, for baser reasons: he was the Lord of this House and could do as he pleased; he was curious about a human male’s responses.

Gracing him with only a passing glance, he strode past the human to disappear behind a changing screen. He shed the layers of his formal garments and donned a comfortable, but elaborately decorated robe. He returned to the bed, and their gazes were locked on each other as Sarek trailed his fingers over the golden links of the chain, he moved to grasp it and kept his fist clenched on the length two feet away from the human’s neck.

“I am Sarek, the Father of this clan,” he said in barely accented Standard. 

The human all but sneered at the declaration.

“You will learn to show respect for myself and mine,” Sarek continued, “Now that you are a part of this House.” Sarek pulled on the chain, encouraging the human to rise and approach him, Much to his chagrin the human shot him a defiant glare and drew back, remaining firmly seated.

“Come here,” he insisted, making his request quite clear, pulling again he gave the human one last chance. Unthinkably, the slave seized the chain and yanked back against Sarek, but the higher gravity of the planet had rendered his human strength inadequate. His eyes widened when he saw the Sarek hadn’t budged in the least.

His face an impassive mask, but with his eyes burning, the Vulcan towed hand over hand on the links. The human scrambled to his feet to avoid landing on his knees. He straightened, feebly attempting to resist and cling to any shred of pride he had left, chained and costumed in this alien bedchamber. When he was face to face with the towering creature, he averted his gaze, teeth bared. Sarek seized a handful of the human’s short, thick hair, in a grip he ensured would be painful. The slave cried out, but kept his neck craned away.

“I would see your eyes,” Sarek demanded, tightening his hold in the honey hair. The human gasped, and turned frustrated, fearful eyes on the Vulcan. Sarek decided the glittering orbs were the same color of a fine liquor he favored. He had made a very fortune find indeed. This slave was undeniably beautiful, but now to test his temperament. There was no honor in having a completely broken slave. But there was also none for the master who failed to train his slave to accurately concede to his wishes.

“I have not even seen a human since my favorite, an Earth woman, was brought here many years ago. She too, has bronzed hair and a lovely mouth. I’ve never had the privilege of having a human male. I intend to take my pleasure thoroughly . . . how you survive the experience is entirely up to your manners.”

As he spoke he kept his fingers gripped in the long hairs of the human’s head. His free hand touched the pink, blushing cheeks, feeling the slide of his fingertips against the sweating flesh. He explored the tawny crescent eyebrows, the generous lips, and the taut curve of his neck.

“Alright . . .” the low voice rumbled against sensitive Vulcan fingertips. “I’ll do as you say.”

Sarek’s hand traveled down to the tie of the tunic, loosed it, and then divested the now trembling creature of the flimsy garment. It pooled at his feet in a soft pile.

“What is your name, slave?”

Sarek caressed the broad shoulders, marveling at the bare, hairless chest. He pinched and rolled the mauve nipples, deciding they were not quite as sensitive as the female of the species.

“Kirk!” the human exclaimed at the attentions, “James Kirk . . .”

Sarek buried his nose into the crux of Kirk’s neck, breathing deeply that red, masculine scent, strong beneath the fragrance of the bath salts and plant oils he had been anointed with.

“A pleasing name,” Sarek admitted, “I will suggest to my son that you keep it.”

He deliberately pushed his body against Kirk’s to knock the human off his balance, causing him to tilt, clutching at Sarek’s shoulders. Sarek seized the man about his waist, and leaned in to experimentally lap at the moist skin of Kirk’s throat. Feeling the slave squirm at the pebbled texture of his tongue, Sarek decided he enjoyed teasing him. Nosing the fragile rounded ear he took the cool lobe between his teeth and nipped sharply. A sigh escaped the pink lips, and Sarek felt the human organ grow half-hard against his thigh.

It reminded him that he had yet to witness the exotic member. He pulled back and observed the flushed purple-rose head, the blue-veined shaft, and the fully descended testicles. Sarek noted the presence of only a single ridge at the crown of the glans. He felt Kirk watching him, letting his eyes travel up the thick torso, he asked, “Have you ever been had by a male, James Kirk?”

Sarek heard the human swallow. “It’s been . . . over a year,” he admitted.

He cupped Kirk’s face, meeting his gaze he instructed, “Get on the bed, and stay on your hands and knees.”

He felt fear, and denial radiate from the being, he feared he would have to get rough with Kirk again, but the human lowered his eyes, crawled onto the plush bedclothes and acquiesced to the instructions. Satisfied, Sarek took a moment to drink in the view of the muscled buttocks. He loosened his robe and moved to the right side of the bed, to a short, square chest of drawers painted in black lacquer. Kirk watched him slide open the top drawer.

Sarek extracted an object off a slim cushion of red velvet. It was an elaborately carved Vulcan phallus, formed from a soft, mint-colored gemstone, with delicate veins of white marbled through it. Kirk gaped, and unconsciously began to lower his hips. Sarek reached over the bed and gave him a sharp slap to his buttocks.

“My instructions were for you to stay on your knees.”

The human flinched, and straightened his thighs again; head bent low and body shivering. Sarek plucked a delicate crystal bottle filled with oil from the top of the chest. He crossed the room to the small fire pit and placed the gem phallus and the vial on the decorated stone edge, to warm them. He turned back to the crouching man, who was regarding him over his shoulder, at the objects by the fire. Sarek untied his robe, and pulled the sash free from his waist.

When he reached the bed he ordered, “Lower your shoulders, and keep your hips in the air.” Kirk complied and Sarek moved to his left side. “Spread your legs.” Sarek gripped his upper bicep, pulling it closer to his bent knee. He looped the robe lash around Kirk’s inner limbs, tying him so his elbow was against his knee, so he was trapped in the incredibly vulnerable position.

It was exactly what Sarek was after. Kirk struggled to get as comfortable as he could in the pose, and he felt the large hands on his upturned ass. Sarek parted the cheeks, continuing his exploration of this attractive human male. The entrance to his body was clenched shut, his thighs straining to remain apart when Kirk desperately wanted to pull them together. Sarek ran his thumb down the crevice, exerting no extra pressure yet, merely wanting to feel the textures of the delicate orifice, the mound of the taint, and the hanging sacs.

Kirk whimpered at the touch, his erection still only at half-mast, but not deflating in the least. The human writhed, and gasped aloud when Sarek placed his damp, sandpapery tongue into the entrance of his body. The Vulcan pushed and rolled the muscle deeper inside, sampling the foreign tastes and scents while slicking the hole as best he could with his minimal saliva. His goal was to relax the human enough so when the eventual penetrations came, he would not be hurt or damaged in his apprehension.

While he continued with his lips and tongue he used his other hand to glide and sooth over the trembling body, feeling the shivering stop and the human’s form melting to the attentions, even pushing back slightly into the questing tongue. Sarek decided enough consideration had been given and he left Kirk’s side again to retrieve the gem phallus and amber oil from the fireside.

He stretched out on the bed to Kirk’s right side. The human craned his head to look at Sarek as he placed the phallus by Kirk’s free hand. Dripping oil onto his fingers he instructed, “Lick it. Wet it with your mouth, James Kirk. And keep your legs spread wide.”

Kirk licked his lips, trying to summon enough saliva in his fear-dry mouth. The Human realized he had yet to see Sarek’s cock, and as he contemplated the toy he wondered how much of its construction was exaggeration. It was at least twelve inches long. There was a wide inch-thick ring about seven inches down with bumps texturing the last four, presumably to keep a grip on the handle if things became too frantic. The head looked not too unsimilar to his own: more conical than blunt in it’s shape, with two elegant ridges flaring wide. Kirk realized Sarek was regarding him with a severe look, impatient at his delay.

Kirk touched the glossy stone, amazed at how alive it felt, having been heated by the fire. Sarek breath quickened at the sight of the wet pink tongue leaving the sanctuary of the mouth and caressing the ridges of the phallus’ head. Kirk soon had the whole glans between his lips, swirling his tongue as he pushed and pulled the shaft deeper into his mouth. His eyes slid shut, and he could hear the older Vulcan’s heavy, aroused breathing. As he continuously worked with his mouth he felt the weight on the bed shift, and then the slippery pressure of Sarek’s oil-slicked fingers worrying at his hole. He fought the urge to clench up, desperate to remain in this mellow haze, to keep Sarek pleased and get the encounter over with as little trouble as possible.

Moaning around the phallus he twisted his hips into the fingers, pushing them deeper inside him. “Good, very good . . .” he heard Sarek’s lust-thickened voice rasp, and the Vulcan rewarded him with a burning kiss on his shoulder. Soon the two of them found a rhythm, Sarek thrusting one, then two digits to their hilts at the same pace Kirk suckled at the stone. After what seemed like endless moments of the steady pace, Sarek gently removed his fingers. Kirk opened his eyes to see Sarek wiping the oil clean from his hand, and then moving to take the dripping phallus from the human’s mouth. He gripped it by the pebbly handle.

Prickly sweat broke out over Kirk’s back, forcing his body to be passive and open. Sarek had not been unkind; he had taken great care to prepare him. Kirk couldn’t stop the short cry he emitted when the head was pushed too easily into his canal.

Sarek stopped and let Kirk’s body adjust, but only for a short moment and continued to urge the stone deeper into the slave. Another three inches were swallowed by Kirk’s orifice with an accompanying shout. Sarek then slowly pulled back, so only the ridged head remained inside, then he slid the phallus back in, deeper than before, so that more than half was buried inside the quivering form. The human clenched his teeth, and whimpered at the increasing fullness within him.

It seemed impossible, but Kirk finally felt the widest part of the gem cock pressed against his ass, buried in his body to the hilt. He dryly sobbed as Sarek’s hand began to move, bobbing the phallus in and out of his body. It teetered him off the balance of pleasure and pain into the realm of fierce arousal. Kirk remembered the sensations he had felt when he had been a willing participant in acts like this, and he couldn’t stop from bending his spine inward like a bow, spreading his legs wider and pushing back.

Suddenly Kirk cried out, his cock springing to full length, and weeping a milky tear when Sarek angled the toy in such a way that drove into his prostate. He heard Sarek gasp in genuine revelation and then press mercilessly in short, slow thrusts against the spot that made Kirk writhe and moan uncontrollably.

“Fascinating,” Sarek breathlessly marveled, “both sexes have internal points of sexual stimulation.”

“Oh gods . . .Ahh! Ah!” Kirk panted and, without having his cock touched once during the entire encounter, jet after jet of pearly come shot from him to land on his stomach, his chest and the blankets beneath him while he pumped his hips hard into the phallus.

He wanted to jump up from the bed, he wanted to fall asleep, he wanted a drink of water, he wanted to roll on his back . . . anything but this balled up position with the sticky evidence of his excitement dripping down his torso.

“Beautiful,” he heard Sarek appraise. The Vulcan reached underneath Kirk’s body to squeeze at the softening crown, milking a few droplets onto his fingers, which he brought to his lips to taste. Kirk fairly liquefied with relief when Sarek released the sash from his arm and leg, unfolding himself on his belly, not caring that he was laying directly on the cooling puddle he had created.

His liberation was entirely too short-lived, as Sarek flipped him onto his back and moved to kneel between his legs. His wrists were captured in a firm grip and pulled over his head. Sarek took the sash and bound the human’s hands to the headboard. To languid to feel any real indignation, Kirk sought out Sarek’s eyes, but halted at the sight of Sarek’s open robe, and the hard body exposed to him.

Kirk knew that the average Vulcan life span was over two hundred years. Kirk had heard somewhere in his travels to this estate that Sarek was over one hundred, but he wasn’t sure what he believed as he gaped at the iron hair curling over hills and plains of solid muscle. The fleece traveled across the expanse of his chest, trailing down a knotted stomach right to the large erection at the juncture of his gray-dusted thighs.

From the angle on his back Kirk noted the differences from the gem phallus and the flesh and (green!) blood one before him. It was almost as long as the insertable length of the false prick. The tapered head and flaring twin ridges were present, but the shaft was as smooth as his own. The color shocked him; the double-ribbed head was a deep mossy green, with the tint fading to a warm jade further down the straining cock. There was also a clear substance that seeped like honey from the verdant slit, and Kirk concluded Vulcan males generated their own lubrication. The shocking shade of the prick made Kirk become conscious of the greenish tinge of Sarek’s nipples, his parted lips, and the lustful blush on his cheeks.

Bound, aroused beyond his understanding, and knowing to protest would be fruitless, Kirk only gave a whimper as Sarek parted Kirk’s legs over his shoulders. His cock dripping, he pushed his way easily into lax human body. When he was fully buried he began to move in a steady, alien undulation, thrusting with all the single mindedness of an animal. He leaned forward, bending Kirk double as he plundered him to the hilt, forcing short grunts from Kirk with each deep push.

Bracing one hand on the bed, Sarek momentarily pressed the fingers of the other against the human’s temple. Kirk was flooded with an overwhelming lust for this man and his heavy cock filling him. He was too weakened and wanton to care where the thoughts had originated as he tightened the grip of his legs on Sarek’s shoulders, pushing back onto the seeking cock, while his own was filling and aching once again. It smacked against his belly, ignored.

The Vulcan’s stamina seemed infinite as he maneuvered Kirk into several positions. They both ended up on their sides, belly to back as Sarek gripped his hip and licked at the shell-like ear.

At long last, Sarek’s steady pace turned frantic, shoving as much of his burning length into the human as possible. Kirk threw his head back into the pillows, groaning, pleasure setting fire to his sore muscles. Sarek’s only sound was a low snarl, and Kirk silently praised the hot flood filling his bowels, signifying the Vulcan’s release. It spilled from him as Sarek pushed him onto his back, and pulled out to spurt the last scalding jets onto Kirk’s swollen cock.

Kirk panted, fighting to catch his breath in the thin air, and regain his sense of self, chasing away the deposited feelings of lust and craving.

But, his mind went white-hot as he felt Sarek’s coarse tongue explore the length of his prick, lapping at his urethral opening. He moaned aloud when he was engulfed in a small tight world of heat, and moisture and texture. Sarek moved in a maddeningly erratic pattern, dipping his fingers in the spilled semen to fondle Kirk’s balls as he suckled. If he had the strength Kirk would have dug his heels into the sheets and thrust into the molten mouth. But all he could do was keen at the sensations radiating between his legs.

He finally emptied himself down Sarek’s throat when the Vulcan sent probing fingers into his body, and stimulated his prostate into shuddering orgasm once again. Sarek drank down the entire bitter brew, lapping every drop clean from the softening organ.

He sat back on his legs. The human had shown satisfying response and endurance, as Sarek had deliberately tried to exhaust him to test his limits. He also showed intelligence at deciding to concede to Sarek’s authority early in the encounter. He was not so the mindless barbarian he had played at when first brought to the House. Sarek would inform Spock favorably of his new slave’s performance.

Sarek rose and padded to the shallow basin of water behind his changing screen. There he soaked and wrung out a small towel and brought it back to the prone man. Sarek was thorough as he bathed away both their dried leavings, and turned the human’s hips over to clean the away the oil and semen. Kirk very still through the whole process. Sarek went back to the basin, in turn washing and drying himself.

Knowing human penchants for regular fluids, he brought a goblet over to the tap and filled it with cool, clear water. Kirk was in the same position he left him in. He released his hands, letting the human curl onto his side, drawing his legs over his depleted genitals. Sarek sat on the edge of the bed. “Drink,” he offered the goblet.

Kirk looked up at him with hard, but questioning eyes. “Have I acted deceptively towards you, James Kirk? You are in need of replenishment. You will drink.”

Kirk struggled upright, wincing at the pressure put on his backside to sit. He took the offered cup and drank greedily, its contents exhausted in four large gulps. Running the back of his hand over a spilled drip on his chin, he handed the cup back and muttered something soft, but not so low that Sarek did not pick it up. “More . . . please.”

Sarek returned in short time with another brimming drink, and Kirk imbibed slowly this time. As he did, Sarek ran his fingers delicately through his flaxen hair as though he were caressing a pet, feeling the thicker texture of it compared to a Vulcan’s.

“Our House is a fair one, James Kirk, if you are willing and obedient you will find that your life can be privileged.”

Kirk drained the goblet and stared into Sarek’s eyes, waiting for more. “Within a week you will be handed over to my son, he will continue in your tempering. Spock is your unquestionable master, and any unwillingness will be met with severe punishment.”

Kirk cast his gaze downward, “I understand.”

Without another word on the subject, Sarek took the goblet from the human and made quick work of straightening the room: removing the soiled top blanket from the bed, placing Kirk’s disgarded tunic on the couch, and turning off all the lamps, save for the small firepit. Kirk remained on the bed, watching the Vulcan intently, as he had for all of Sarek’s actions tonight.

The old Vulcan told himself that must remember to warn his son that this slave was clever. He did not think the human was deceiving or vicious, only quick-thinking and, as loathe as he was to admit it: quite logical. Deciding that his best course of action was to play the compliant servant until such a time that he could possibly escape. Sarek chose not to be concerned any more than he had too, he had made his decision about the beautiful slave, and eventually it would be up to Spock to condition him.

Sarek turned back the sheets and slid into his bed. He lay on his side, and pulled on Kirk, urging him to do the same. The human acquiesced silently, but couldn’t contain a soft gasp when Sarek draped an arm over his thigh and laid the big hand on his genitals.

It didn’t feel like a sexual act, merely a curious, possessive groping. As he was palmed and stroked Kirk felt the weight of the whole ordeal drain him. Kirk thought it impossible that he would be able to sleep in such a place. But he felt the push of Sarek’s chest, the surprisingly calming sound of the Vulcan’s deep breathing. And the heated hand felt so soothing as Sarek worked with his palm and fingers in an unhurried, writhing massage.

Kirk slipped into darkness, too exhausted to even dream, or think about what tomorrow would bring.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration for this chapter:

Kirk basked in the pink-tinged shade under the extraterrestrial tree, though he was the true alien in this strange garden. It had been, by his estimate, six days since he was literally dragged onto the Estate. Five nights since the master of the House, Sarek, had thoroughly claimed him in his bed. Kirk had not been allowed clothes after then, having been quickly divested of the flimsy garment the other servants costumed him in. He had been permitted to travel in the private gardens outside Sarek’s quarters, and found the walls impossible to climb. The only other exits were latticework doors that led back into the house, and remained firmly locked when he left Sarek’s room to explore.

The garden sprawled with twisting plum-red cacti, goldenrod blossoms, barbed trees with lace-like flowers hanging from the tallest branches; foliage bearing fruit ranging from jewel blue, to rich scarlet and juicy black. Sarek didn’t seem the “green thumb” type, and he often wondered who kept the garden as manicured and beautiful as it was.

Kirk spent as much time as he could outside of Sarek’s rooms when he was free to do so. For two out of the five nights he had been placed in his own tiny private quarters to sleep in, away from the old Vulcan. Those nights had been a relief for Kirk as Sarek reveled in any activity that involved touching his human slave. Sarek’s attentions were exhausting, his fascination at finding new ways to bring Kirk to orgasm endless.

Kirk was now on his back, naked amongst strange teal grass and shrouded in the wall’s shade cast by the setting sun. Though bare, Sarek had provided him with a powerful sun-cream to protect his skin, even advising him to spread the cream into his hair to protect his scalp. Days spent in Eridani’s rose light, even with the cream, had tinted his skin glowing bronze, and his hair a gleaming gold.

Unbidden, he began to suddenly think of Sarek, which most likely meant the Vulcan was back in his quarters. Sarek had explained to him that Vulcans were touch telepaths. He then informed Kirk that he had placed a barely hair-thin link inside Kirk’s mind. It had been done while he touched his temple when he first slid his hard cock inside the human’s body. The link was what had aroused Kirk beyond his own comprehension during the act.

When Kirk’s eyes had widened in concern, Sarek went on to clarify that the thin link was purely for the purposes of Summoning Kirk for his needs, and that he could not, intrude on his personal thoughts. Sure enough, there was strong beckoning in his psyche, absolutely saturated with thoughts of Sarek. Sighing, he rose, brushing himself off and marching back down the decorated path to Sarek’s doors.

 

The Vulcan had already disrobed, but was still ensconced with heavy jewelry, when Kirk entered his room. Sarek was reclining on the sofa at the foot of the bed, giving Kirk a cursory glance as he continued to work a cream over something slick and bright purple between his fingers. Kirk swallowed, suspecting what would be commanded of him next.

“Present yourself,” Sarek ordered, and Kirk lowered himself to his knees. Turning his back on Sarek he leaned forward until his arms and forehead were pressed into the cool clay tiles of the floor.

“Good . . .” he heard Sarek praise and he felt a hot, wet finger slide into him. When it was buried to the hilt Sarek crooked the digit, pressing hard into Kirk’s golden spot, and despite himself the human cried out in sharp pleasure. He continued to whimper as Sarek pressured the area with short plunges until Kirk was achingly, painfully hard.

The finger withdrew, and was replaced by the slick, tapered end of another of Sarek’s toys. In his menagerie there was a short, fat plug made of a brilliantly purple stone that reminded Kirk of Terran amethyst. The flange was carved like a faceted jewel. The largest part spread him wide, and he held his breath as he felt his body swallow the rest of the stone. Sarek sighed, pleased with the lovely sight before him. He pushed and rolled at the jewel protruding from the human, eliciting soft moans from Kirk who knew well enough to stay on his hands and knees until Sarek ordered him to do otherwise.

Sarek sat back in the cushions and held himself; the act of preparing the human had brought him to half-hardness. He indulged in a few slow strokes, stimulating the mucous membranes beneath his double ridges to lubricate his cock.

“James . . .”

When Kirk turned to face him Sarek completed the summon with, “Your mouth.”

Kirk rose on his knees, the new angle changing the pressure inside his body. Not meeting Sarek’s eyes he instead chose to focus on the towering phallus. Kirk knew that the viscous liquid would taste like bitter-sweet nectar. He began with a generous swipe up the shaft using his whole tongue, just as he had been taught. He swirled the head with his tongue then engulfed the soft flesh. As he worked, the hardness filled his mouth and juices ran off his chin. For several minutes Sarek watched the bright golden head bob between his legs. The human was doing too good a job and he felt himself rolling towards the brink. As pleasurable as the cool mouth was, he had no desire to come inside Kirk this way.

Sarek seized his hair, pulling him back with a wet, obscene sound; glistening threads keeping the lips leashed to the throbbing prick. “Up, up!” Sarek was urging him, and Kirk clamored onto the plush couch. The divan was large enough for both of them to position themselves comfortably; Sarek sitting upright with his legs spread, and Kirk’s knees on either side of his thighs, his back facing the Vulcan’s chest. Even in his heat Sarek made sure to carefully extract the plug from the human’s relaxed entrance.

The head of the alien cock swiftly replaced the emptiness in him, and as open and ready as they both were Kirk was easily pushed halfway down the organ. Sarek leaned his upper body back on the cushions, propped up on his own hands. “Move yourself, James. I would watch you,” his voice glutinous.

Kirk panted and braced his palms on Sarek’s thighs. Rolling his hips he worked his way down until his ass was cradled in the Vulcan’s lap. Familiar with the girth stretching him Kirk only hesitated a moment to adjust before he rose, beginning a steady rhythm of long strokes and hard grinds that he knew Sarek favored from him. Grateful Sarek couldn’t see his face Kirk bit his lip against the cries that threatened to emerge. But, it was impossible to not be affected by the hot, sliding prick inside him, which was nothing like any sensation Kirk had ever felt before. It felt incredible, and Kirk hated it every time Sarek made him actively participate in his own debasement.

Kirk sought a zen like pace, but he was jolted from his reverie by the sound of the heavy door opening across the room. Shocked by the sight of one of Sarek’s Vulcan servants entering, his tempo faltered and stopped. Embarrassed at being seen in such a state, Kirk made an effort to disengage himself from Sarek. With an irritated sound Sarek seized his hips in a bruising vice, took over where Kirk halted and thrust deep inside the human. Biting back a protest, Kirk flushed red as the young Vulcan approached the couch, without battling an eyelash he addressed Sarek.

“Trensu, I’ve been asked to inform you that your son has just arrived to the property,” the slender man bowed low.

Over Kirk’s shoulder Sarek answered, “Make arrangements for dinner in the scarlet room, Vaten, that is all for now.”

The servant glided out of the room, and Kirk actually found himself dreading the retreat, knowing Sarek’s patience would only hold as long as the other man was in their presence. As the door closed completely Sarek tightened his grip and spun Kirk sideways, keeping himself embedded inside him. Both of them were on their knees, one of Sarek’s hands still hard on the human thigh, the other woven in the golden hair, holding Kirk’s head down on the divan cushions.

The long cock retreated, so only the ridged head remained. He pushed back in slowly, letting Kirk feel his flesh stretch. “Had I commanded you to stop, James?”

The Vulcan pulled back only slightly, then ruthlessly snapped his hips forward, and continued to drive against the yielding flesh. When Kirk kept silent he posed the question again, “Had I?” He rotated his hips, hitting every sensitive, explosive area inside Kirk. “No!” Kirk wheezed through clenched teeth. Sarek bent one knee and began to pound Kirk in earnest, hands pushing down the broad shoulders.

Kirk chewed his lips, found it impossible to hold back the grunts forced from him by the onslaught. Sarek was relentless and Kirk lost track of how long the dominating act continued. He felt raw, completely spent and sore. He sobbed in relief at the hot flood filling his channel, felt it spilling as Sarek left him.

Kirk could do nothing more then collapse onto the couch, and hope that the semen leaking from him onto the pillows would not upset Sarek. The Vulcan held him by the arm and pulled him towards the bath rooms. There was a small water shower against one of the walls, obscured from the rest of the room by a partial, blue tiled wall. Sarek pushed Kirk under the gold spigot. “You will cleanse yourself, James Kirk. Tonight you will serve my son, and myself and I will have you presentable and well behaved. Is that understood?”

Kirk straightened and he met Sarek’s gaze with hard eyes. “Perfectly,” he said, daringly flashing a sharp smirk. Sarek favored him with a slight sway of his head and turned on his heel, disappearing behind the blue tile wall, and leaving Kirk alone.

His fist connected with the on switch of the shower and a warm torrent washed over him. He tried to stop himself from thinking, focusing on the deluge over his skin, washing away Sarek’s touch, and his seed. Tried not to contemplate what Sarek meant by “serve” him and his son. Kirk had every reason to believe the service was of a carnal nature. Sarek’s son . . . would he be as callous as his father? Kirk remembered the indifferent servant that had entered while Sarek fucked him, were all Vulcans so unmoved?

As he lathered himself with a strangely textured soap, Kirk blinked and realized was doing a terrible job at detaching from thoughts of tonight. . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Years ago I started this story because I had a huge boner for Sarek/Kirk . . . I'd like to return to it some day. . . just not any day soon unfortunately. So. . . .The End. . . for now :)


End file.
